


The Jealous Type

by rob0tguts



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grand Theft Auto Setting, Drabble, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, I'm Bad At Tagging, Jealousy, M/M, Male Slash, Mission Fic, Not Beta Read, Random & Short, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-13
Updated: 2020-10-13
Packaged: 2021-03-07 17:08:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,152
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26991172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rob0tguts/pseuds/rob0tguts
Summary: Lamar gets hit on and Franklin causes a scene.
Relationships: Franklin Clinton/Lamar Davis
Comments: 3
Kudos: 16





	The Jealous Type

**Author's Note:**

  * For [LoveFandoms828](https://archiveofourown.org/users/LoveFandoms828/gifts).



> After 1 million years I finally have that smut for you. *sweats profusely*

Maybe, the piece of shit had it coming, and Franklin was the final straw of fate. 

Suggestive comments laced with the tinge of alcohol and lingering touches that set the alarms in Franklin's head blaring. The advances were clearly making Lamar uncomfortable. He would slide as far away from the guy only to have him slide back into his space. And there were a few times Franklin noticed Lamar visibly tarrying himself from hurting this bastard but, they were supposed to not cause a scene tonight because god forbid Micheal's image be questioned by his bosses. 

Finally, though, Lamar turned to give Franklin a desperate kind of look, and he thanks the lord above for that because he would hate for Lamar to get blood on his new suit. 

Either way, Franklin took pleasure in the feeling of breaking bone under his fists and simpered at the shocked faces that surrounded him in the crowd. If he weren't busy punching the bastards face in, he would have heard Lamar's protests. Or maybe, he was actively trying to ignore them. 

Two pairs of hands were on him in an instant, along with voices vibrating in his ears. 

"Good job idiot. We have to go now." Lamar says to his right.

"Your lucky Trevor made it out back with the bag." Micheal hissed.

He recovers in the car. 

Micheal is in the passenger seat going on and on about how Franklin needs to stop knocking targets that don't require knocking. Trevor's driving and calling Micheal a damned hypocrite. And Lamar has that knowing look plastered on his face.

Franklin grabs his thigh and squeezes. Lamar flinches and holds back a grin.

"The hell you punch him for anyways, F?" Micheal asks. Franklin catches him, watching him through the rear-view mirror. 

He shrugs the same time Trevor burst out into a fit of laughter. 

"Weren't you in the front row, Mikey? You couldn't smell the jealousy and rage-induced hormones coming off of that one back there, aye?" Trevor shouts. "Well, I did. And I was on the other side of the house listening through the radios when it happened." 

Franklin's too busy glaring daggers at Lamar who had started to laugh.

He doesn't catch Micheal shaking his head at them.

"Youngsters." He mutters.

\---------

"Didn't think you were the Jealous type Frankie. I mean shit, man, the dude was practically taken and smelled like an old can of Bud. But at least you got to him before me. Now Mike is gonna get off of my ass and ride yours." Lamar says. He doesn't get to toss the keys onto the counter before Franklin pounces and shoves him against the front door. "Shit F-" 

Franklin kisses him like the worlds starting to crumble beneath their feet. Every gasp and jerk from Lamar grounds him to the still solid ground, And There are a few times where Franklin can feel Lamar trying to flip them over, but he somehow keeps control. 

It's when Franklin can physically feel Lamar submit by ceasing to struggle that reaches up to take him by the throat. He takes pride in the hesitant bob of Lamar's Adams apple.

"Not tonight." He rasps. "Tonight, you're gonna take me."

"Well fuck, I ain't complaining," Lamar whispers breathlessly, pupils blown wider than saucers.

They move to a bedroom down the hall in a blur. It's the guest room, but it's the nearest room as well, and when they reach the bed, Franklin pushes Lamar down and starts to strip. 

Lamar eyes him hungrily the entire time. God, all he wants to do is kiss that smug look off of his face, to see him fall apart underneath his palms and hear him scream his name.

They meet again when Lamar gets up to pull Franklin in by the ass. They fall back, and Lamar lets out an embarrassingly small sound when Franklin reaches down to pulls him out of his boxers. 

Lamar tastes like desperation and temptation, and the burning in Franklin's chest burns all the brighter as Lamar starts to groan and suck on his lips. 

When he pulls away with a few huffing breaths of his own, looks into Lamar's cloudy gaze, his thumb presses into the juncture of Lamar's hip.

"You want it like this or..." He follows Lamar's tongue as it darts out to wet his lips. "...from behind?"

It's rare to see Lamar left speechless. He can see the words rushing through Lamar's mind as he tries his damnedest to come up with a complete sentence.

"Like...this...." He pants.

Franklin leans in.

This doesn't feel like the type of night to take things slow. And Lamar seems to agree as he starts pushing himself down on Franklin's fingers.

"Please damn it. Please." Lamar begs. "Please."

Franklin shudders, composes himself, and complies.

He pushes into Lamar slowly and watches as Lamar's does the rest, rolling his hips until they meet again, and again, and again. Lamar is a sight beneath him, eyes glassy and bottom lip caught between his teeth. His chest heaves as he works himself against Franklin's every thrust, and Franklin can't help but worship.

Not just anyone can reduce Lamar to this. Someone who he trusts with his life enough to fight and fuck-- not like this. Not the way Franklin can. Not the way Lamar lets him.

When he starts to rock his hips, it's gentle at first. But Lamar's starting to moan unabashed and without hesitation. He thrusts, and thrusts, and thrusts, harder-- faster, until Lamar's a mess, sweating moaning, and gorgeous.

They keep going like that, and Franklin ignores the pooling feeling in his gut as he keeps his eyes on the prize beneath him. Lamar's as tense as a bow but his legs shake as Franklin fucks him like he's the only thing that matters.

"Please.." Lamar whines. And Franklin moves to take a hold of him. That's all it takes. 

Lamar shouts, clawing at Franklin's arms. It's enough to make Franklin follow suit. 

He's pretty sure his heart stops.

When he pulls out, Lamar whines at the sudden emptiness. 

"Jesus fucking christ." Lamar heaves. "You just blew my fucking back out."

He flops onto his side and lays a kiss on Lamar's shoulder. 

"I love you." he laughs. 

"Love you too, fool," Lamar says. "Even if you get horny when your jealous."

Franklin snorts.

"Says the one who nearly gutted a guy for saying I looked good in a pair of jeans. Then tried to fuck me in the alleyway by his store"

"That guy was clearly eyeing you throughout the store when I obviously have you wrapped around my finger," Lamar said.

Franklin laughs and shakes his head. It's nearing two past midnight and they have a job to do with Trevor in the afternoon. He flops on his side and presses himself into Lamar. 

"Night." He mumbles. "Idiot."

"Good Night."


End file.
